


Do You Want a Cup of Coffee?

by hogwartswitch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coffee, Crack, Disney Songs, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/pseuds/hogwartswitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's got a Disney song stuck in his head and John accidentally buys the wrong kind of coffee. After five cups of coffee, Sherlock makes a decision that earns him a punishment from John - AND a reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Want a Cup of Coffee?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I've had a bit of a sad time lately, my dear readers, so I decided to remedy my down-in-the-dumps mood with a bit of crack-fic writing. This ridiculous story was inspired by a rather bizarre Facebook video involving someone playing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" on another person's bare ass-cheeks (honestly, I don't even know how I manage to discover these dark corners of the internet). This, of course, led to Johnlock thoughts (as does everything in life) and thus, this one-shot was born. And while researching the caffeine content of coffee, I discovered [this coffee](http://www.deathwishcoffee.com/), which I knew had to play a role in my story. Do yourself a favor and look up the reviews for it on Amazon, if you want a good laugh.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this little bit of crack, as it did, successfully, cheer me up a bit while writing it! As always, if you enjoyed it, please check out [my other works](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/works), [find me on tumblr](http://cleverwholigan.tumblr.com), and/or leave a kudo/comment if you feel like it! :)

To this day, John will insist that he ordered the very same coffee he'd always ordered, right there on Amazon.co.uk. Perhaps he did and it was all a mistake. Or perhaps he distractedly clicked on the wrong brand. Whatever the case, what arrived was a sixteen ounce bag of something called Death Wish Coffee and, if the name weren't enough of a sign of what was inside, the skull and crossbones stamped on the black bag surely painted the rest of the picture.

Sherlock turned it over in his hands and read the description on the back. "Roasted to have double the caffeine content of a regular cup of brand name coffee."

"Huh." John said. "I could have sworn I ordered the regular stuff."

Sherlock shrugged. "Oh, how different could it be? It'll do fine. Anything to keep me going through my experiments tonight. I need to clear this case soon."

He walked into the kitchen, whistling softly.

"Is that...." John squinted at him suspiciously. "Is that a Disney song?"

Sherlock stopped mid-stride and pulled a face. "Damn. Some little girl on the tube sung it at the top of her lungs all the way home yesterday. I haven't been able to get it out of my head."

John chuckled as he returned to the blog entry he'd half-typed. "Well, keep it to yourself. I don't need to have it stuck in mine."

Sherlock responded by switching on the coffee grinder.

***

Halfway through Sherlock's first cup of coffee, John closed his laptop and dropped a kiss on Sherlock's cheek.

"G'night, love. Don't stay up all night." He mumbled, padding to the bedroom and shedding his clothes to crawl into bed stark naked.

"Mmm." 

It was a sign of Sherlock's deep concentration that John's disrobing didn't rouse him from his experiment. Instead, he gulped more of his coffee and contemplated making a second cup.

***

By the time the sun barely peeked over the horizon, Sherlock slurped down his fifth cup of coffee and wondered why he could suddenly taste colors and see sounds. He tapped his fingers frantically on his knees and thought, just maybe, he'd figured out the meaning of life. Or... on second thought, he might have just scrawled a bunch of lines of Shakespeare in his notebook. And still, that damned song was stuck in his head. Over and over and over, the lyrics would not get out. Sherlock thought his brain might explode if he concentrated hard enough.

A loud snore from the bedroom distracted him. Sherlock stood up and walked to the bedroom doorway to peek in at John, who lay face down in bed. His naked body, golden and perfect in every way Sherlock had ever needed, beckoned to him. Sherlock's eyes lit upon the tanned globes of John's ass, the smooth surface marred only by twin dimples. His fingers twitched and a grin played at the corners of Sherlock's mouth. In his caffeine-fueled brain, a plan formed. An irresistible plan that, once imagined, could not be banished. He knew, suddenly, how to get that damnable song out of his head.

Sherlock tiptoed quietly into the bedroom and crawled on the bed until he straddled John's legs. Hovering over John's ass, Sherlock grinned even wider. His eyes, had he been able to see them, shone with the crazy light that was the 1,000+ milligrams of caffeine coursing through his system. Raising his hands high above his head, Sherlock brought them down with a resounding smack as he began what could only be described as a derriere drum solo on John's backside. He threw back his head and, at the top of his lungs, began to sing.

"DO YOU WANT TO BUILD A SNOWMAN?????" Sherlock warbled, drumming his hands on John's ass cheeks.

John's eyes flew open and he bolted out of bed, immediately taking a defensive stance as though he thought he might have to fight a rogue spanking ninja that had somehow infiltrated the bedroom. After blinking the fog of sleep from his eyes, John focused on Sherlock, who still sat on the bed, his hands frozen in mid-air. It took a few moments for John to put together the puzzle pieces, but Sherlock could see the gears in his mind working to fit them all together.

"Sherlock." John hissed between his teeth. "What in the fresh hell?"

"Come on, let's go and play?" Sherlock sang quietly, aiming his best smile and puppy-dog eyes at John.

"What. Fucking. Drugs. Are. You. On?" John asked this in an eerily calm voice that Sherlock knew meant his doom.

"Errm." Sherlock said, easing slowly off the bed. "I may have had a little too much coffee, so I think I'll just go walk it off outside...."

"Fucking hell you will!" John snapped.

Sherlock squeaked as John launched his nude body towards him. He took off at a run through the flat, John chasing after him.

"I'll bloody well build you a snowman!" John yelled, tripping over Sherlock's experiment in the kitchen.

Though it was a small flat, Sherlock managed to lead John on a merry chase while screeching at a pitch only heard by dogs. John threw every curse word he knew at Sherlock, including some he may have invented. But the chase came to an end when John cornered Sherlock in the bathroom.

It was while John forced Sherlock into the shower, fully clothed, and aimed a spray of ice-cold water at him that Sherlock began questioning his life choices.

"John!" He howled, holding his hands up to block the spray from catching him full in the face. "I think I might owe you an apology!"

"Oh really?" John bellowed, lowering the shower sprayer. "What makes you think that?"

They stared at each other, Sherlock dripping wet in his dressing gown and looking like a bedraggled kitten and John red-faced and naked. It was Sherlock who cracked first, biting his lip to try to hold back the giggles that threatened to overtake him. John fumed for a few seconds longer and then broke eye contact as he let out a giant snort of laughter.

"You utter bastard." John laughed. "Exactly how much coffee did you drink?"

"I lost track after the third cup." Sherlock snickered. "But it feels like my heart wants to burst out of my chest and dance a samba."

"Come here, you git." John grabbed the belt of Sherlock's dressing gown and pulled him roughly towards him. He pressed a fervent kiss on his lips before pulling away. "Maybe we need to work off some of that energy."

Sherlock's blood still buzzed with energy and he nodded eagerly, noting that John's cock was already half erect. John turned to go back to the bedroom, crooking a finger for Sherlock to follow. Sherlock complied, almost slipping in the puddle of cold water left on the bathroom floor, but managing to right himself before disaster struck and bounded after John. On the way, he flung off his dressing gown and the clothes he had on underneath. In the bedroom, John leaned against the bedpost and raised one eyebrow at him.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" John teased.

Sherlock let out a whimper of anticipation and flung himself on the bed, reaching out and tugging John with him. John laughed and straddled Sherlock. He bent and began kissing a trail down Sherlock's neck and chest. His fingers found Sherlock's nipple and toyed with it as he licked and sucked at the skin on his collarbone. Sherlock moaned and wriggled beneath John.

"Stop wiggling!" John said, pinching Sherlock's nipple harder and drawing a high-pitched giggle from him.

Sherlock's hands fluttered against the blankets as if he was unsure of what to do with them. John continued his trail downwards, pressing kisses along Sherlock's rib cage and then to his abdomen. He swirled his tongue around Sherlock's belly button and then dipped inside its depths. Sherlock let out a breathy, snorting laugh and batted at John's head.

"What the hell, Sherlock?" John sat up, a look of consternation on his face.

"You're tickling me!" Sherlock protested.

"Jesus, I swear, I am never letting you drink coffee, ever again." John grumbled. "Do you want me to keep going or not?"

"I do, I do!" Sherlock said between laughing. "I'm sorry, I just can't stay still!"

"Hmmm...." John looked around, his eyes lighting on the belt of Sherlock's dressing gown. "Maybe we need some help in that department."

Sherlock grew serious when John pulled the silk belt from the gown and held it up. "You want to tie me up?"

John shrugged. "Only if you're willing?"

Sherlock chewed his lip and contemplated all the fluttery feelings in his stomach. He nodded, grinning, and held his wrists together and out to John. "Do it."

John gently wrapped the belt around his wrists a couple of times and then told Sherlock to raise his arms above his head so he could tie the rest of the belt to the headboard of the bed. Sitting back, he admired Sherlock's body stretched out beneath him.

"I rather like you like that." John said, tracing a finger down Sherlock's armpit, which caused him to let out another burst of snorting laughter. "Now... where was I?"

He returned to his ministrations at Sherlock's abdomen, running his hands over Sherlock's thighs and around to cup his buttocks. He pressed his face into Sherlock's groin and sucked at the flesh there, drawing a moan from Sherlock. John kneaded Sherlock's ass with his fingers, pulling the cheeks apart and teasing around the ring of tight muscle beneath. Sherlock raised his hips slightly and moaned again, jutting his hard cock towards John's face.

"Patience," John cautioned, aiming a wolfish grin at Sherlock. "I want to take my time here."

"Nnng." Sherlock moaned. "Do _something_ , John!"

"Do something?" John sat back on his knees and pushed Sherlock's legs up so he had ample access to his ass. "Something like you did to me this morning?"

The first smack startled a cry out of Sherlock, who didn't expect the sharp sting of John's hand connecting sharply with his rump.

"H-hey!" He protested. "Not fair!"

"Not fair, like waking me up with Disney songs?" John teased, adding another smack on the opposite cheek.

"I wasn't in control of myself!" Sherlock yelped as another smack landed, leaving behind a faint, pink hand print that quickly faded.

"Hmmmm...." John hummed, smiling wickedly and continuing his steady spanking. "So, situation normal, then?"

Sherlock tried to lower his legs, but John had one arm braced around them in such a way that he was trapped and at the mercy of John's quick hand as it darted out to connect with his skin. The spanking continued for several slaps more, each one drawing a cry from Sherlock's lips. Finally, the punishment ended and John rubbed his hand over Sherlock's ass.

"Okay?" He asked, letting his finger delve in between Sherlock's cheek and tease at his entrance.

Sherlock panted and tried to press down on John's finger. "Uh-huh... I am now...."

"Ah-ah... I'm in charge here." John removed his finger, which drew more protests from Sherlock.

He lowered Sherlock's legs back on the bed and now focused on Sherlock's straining erection, the tip flushed red and leaking. John traced his finger up the underside of Sherlock's cock, then rubbed it gently against his slit. Sherlock's mouth opened in a wordless moan, his eyes squeezed shut. Wrapping his hand around Sherlock's cock, John stroked slowly and then lowered his mouth on the tip, pressing his tongue against Sherlock's slit and probing back and forth. With his free hand, he massaged Sherlock's balls as he traced a vein on Sherlock's cock with his tongue.

"Jesus!" Sherlock ground out between his teeth. "That mouth of yours!"

John laughed and took as much of Sherlock's length inside his mouth as he could handle, sucking in his cheeks and swirling his tongue over the glans. He bobbed his head over Sherlock's cock and hummed low in his throat, sending vibrations that had Sherlock whimpering and thrusting his hips up desperately.

With a sucking sound and a trail of saliva, John pulled back and sat up once more.

"Don't stop!" Sherlock panted. "God, John, please don't stop!"

John reached over to the bedside table and fumbled open a drawer, pulling out a partly used tube of lube. "You have to tell me what you want, Sherlock."

Sherlock's eyes followed John's hand as he squeezed out some lube and rubbed it on his own erect cock, leaving it slick and shiny.

"I want you to fuck me." Sherlock said hoarsely. "Hard and fast until I come."

"You sure?" John asked, teasingly. He spread a dollop of lube on his finger and reached under Sherlock to rub it around his asshole.

Sherlock whimpered and wriggled his hips, nodding quickly. "Please, John. I need it."

Pushing Sherlock's legs up again to clear his way, John pressed his cock against the pink bud of Sherlock's asshole and eased slightly inside, then pulled out again. Sherlock groaned and tried to push himself towards John's cock, but his bound hands made movement difficult. John pressed in again, seating himself fully in Sherlock's ass, but not moving.

"Tease!" Sherlock cried, wriggling his hips some more. "Are you trying to drive me crazy?"

"Just giving you a taste of your own medicine." John laughed, pulling his cock back slowly and then pressing back in.

He continued to stroke in and out at an agonizing pace. At the same time, he grasped Sherlock's still weeping cock and stroked it just as slowly. "How does that feel, Sherlock?"

"Nnng," Sherlock gurgled. "Faster, I beg you."

"You? Beg?" John grinned and increased his pace a fraction.

"Yes, beg!" Sherlock answered. "Please, John. Fuck me mindless!"

Never able to resist Sherlock when he begged, John gave up his ruse and quickened his thrusts. His skin slapped against Sherlock's as he slammed into him at a merciless rate. The room filled with the sounds of their panting and grunting, Sherlock letting out little mewls of satisfaction. John continued to stroke Sherlock's cock while he thrust into him. Together they raced to the edge of ecstasy and then John felt his cock swell and spurt inside Sherlock's ass. Waves of pleasure crashed over him as he groaned and buried himself deep inside Sherlock. Shortly after, Sherlock's cock twitched and he came over John's fingers and on his own stomach. He cried out John's name in one, long howl. John sagged against him, panting. He reached out and undid the belt of the dressing gown with shaking fingers, freeing Sherlock's hands. Sherlock reached up to bury his long fingers in John's hair and pull him into a deep kiss. John tasted coffee on his breath and he probed his tongue inside Sherlock's mouth, their tongues meeting and tangling with each other.

Energy spent and caffeine expended, Sherlock lay sprawled on the bed, flesh sticky with come and limbs loose and relaxed. His mind was blissfully empty, void of song lyrics, science experiments, or anything else but the warm afterglow of sex.

"So," John said. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"


End file.
